10-7 Consequence and Changes
by ladyd10
Summary: Just the fall out we didn't get to see after John Hagan committed suicide not only on Calleigh's firing range, but in front of her.


_**10-4 and out?**_

_**A/N This one has been rattling around in my brain for years. It always bugged me that Horatio and Calliegh had been so split in the episode 10-7. I guess it was the actual beginning of the split between two main characters that could carry an episode on their own. Poor choice, if you ask me and extremely poor story boarding. They could have left one of the storylines for another episode to focus on the other. With actual cases in different episodes this split works. With individual storylines involving emotions , in a single episode, it doesn't and the writers just didn't get it.**_

_**Changes and Consequences**_

Horatio stood at the door; the solid oak door leading into Calleigh's comfortable home. He remembered when he helped move her in there. It wasn't all that long ago. In fact it was just four short years ago, right after she had been made the day shift's head ballistics expert and within that year she had enough savings to put a down payment on the elegant southern home she now was within an arm's length of owning outright.

He raised his hand to knock and then drew back. What if she didn't want company? He wouldn't have blamed her. Hell, he didn't even know about the living nightmare that she had just found herself entrapped in until it was too late to do anything. He had been so wrapped up in Ray and Yelina and family issues that went beyond family to the ridiculous and he finally sent the other Caines off on a private jet to Brazil, and, hopefully, a new and better life.

This time, when he raised his hand, he curled it into a fist and knocked, firmly, yet, gently, lest he startle the homes' occupant. There was no answer. He knew Calleigh was home. Her car was in the driveway. He knocked again, firmer this time. "Calleigh, let me in." Silence met him in cold emptiness. He made his voice firmer, more authoritative. "Calliegh, either you let me in or I'll use the key. I know where it is." There was a long pause before he heard movement from inside. He heard the sound of the lock being released and then the door swung partially open.

Calliegh could only be partially seen, but what he saw disturbed him greatly. Her head was down, hair curtaining her face. It was only 6 p.m. and she was clearly in her pajamas. "Horatio, what do you need?" she asked listlessly.

"To come in, for starters."

She hesitated and then swung the door open. "Come in."

Horatio stepped in and took a good look at his ballistics expert and was shocked at the marked difference from when he saw her that very morning. She could have been a completely separate person. The fact that her Southern Hospitality hadn't kicked in yet sounded alarm bells in his head. She was clearly in need of help. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

Calleigh refused to look up, refused to let Horatio see how broken she felt inside; how beaten down and crushed her spirit was. "I'm fine."

"No, no, you're not," he said, pulling out her name plate from the duty board. "This was in the waste basket. Don't tell me that it fell in. Sweetheart, I know what happened today. Please talk to me."

She turned away from him, tears welling for the hundredth time, or it seemed so, in her eyes. "You called me 'sweetheart'. You only use that when speaking with victims. I'm not a victim."

Horatio's voice was gentle and full of emotion. "Yes, you were today. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but you tossed your name plate into the waste basket." He took a chance and laid a soft hand on her shoulder, surprised to find her shaking. "You're hurting right now and, and I want to help, if I can.. Please let me in, Calleigh."

She listlessly gestured to her living room and to her couch. "Make yourself at home."

Horatio took the invitation and slid past her and into the living room. He perched on the couch, waiting for her to join him.

She went directly into her kitchen and returned a few scant minutes later with a tall glass of sweet tea and a dainty tomato sandwich. She slid them in front of Horatio and then sat, ever-so-gingerly on the chair farthest from him. "I hope this is alright."

Horatio watched her closely. "This is fine. Thank you." Not wanting to insult her hospitality that was obviously extremely strained at the moment, he sipped her wonderful sweet tea that he loved and took a bite of the generously offered sandwich. He had never had such a sandwich and found himself enjoying it and marveling at Calleigh's instincts for the millionth time. It was just what he needed. Now he hoped he had what she needed.

"Calleigh, this is delicious. Thank you." he complimented sincerely, eating and drinking a little more. He watched her relax slightly as he ate. "I...I don't want to be a rude guest, but, sweetheart, this has been an extremely difficult day for you. You've...had a gun put to your head at a crime scene, only to find out that John was the one to put it there. I know your history with him. I know you cared for him... very much. So, when he did what he did in your inner sanctum...Calleigh, I can't even imagine how you feel right now. All I know is that I want to help." He said sincerely. "Talk to me."

Calleigh looked down at her hands wringing themselves in her lap. How could she possibly admit her weakness to her boss, her mentor? How could he not be bitterly disappointed in her? She reacted in a completely unprofessional way, letting her emotions rule her instead of her intellect. But she hurt so badly so soon after Tim's death. Her heart was tearing, shredding into millions of pieces and she was helpless to stop it. If anything, John was still a friend, someone she cared for. And he took his life. That would have been enough to make her heart ache, but he did it in front of her on her own shooting range at CSI. Even though his body had been removed and the floor cleaned, the cleaning crew missed something crucial. That crucial thing dripped onto her pristine white lab coat as she tried to act normal, tried to get on with things although she was shattered inside. One, single, perfectly red blood drop landed on her pristine white lab coat. One drop. She had looked up to see part of John's brain still stuck to the ceiling and it brought everything she had been trying to desperately push aside for hours until her shift ended right into her face and she couldn't handle it at work. Until she could get home and process everything, she would be useless. She couldn't go back onto the range. Not with John's brains still on the ceiling. No, never.. One single drop of blood. It was her undoing. She could feel herself being cut loose, like a ship without it's moorings, from the safety of the dock, from her professional facade. Tears welled in her eyes and she knew she had to leave, immediately. So in haste was she that she left everything where it lay, ear and eye protectors, evidence and all. It didn't matter in her haste to get out before she broke down. She saw her name on the duty board and pulled it off, tossing it into the waste basket, not ever wanting to step within the walls of CSI again. She was done, through. The job had cost her too much. Tim died on duty. John killed himself. It was to much. Who else would she lose? She didn't want to think about it anymore. She wanted out.

Her voice was so soft that Horatio wasn't sure she actually spoke. "I can't go back."

Horatio saw how hard she was fighting the tears that were threatening to fall. "No one is asking you to. I'm, here not as your boss, but...as a friend. Please talk to me so I can comfort you."

"I don't know."she squeaked, fighting the tears.

I think you do," Horatio coaxed, laying a gentle hand on her arm.

With that simple touch, the dam broke and she wept as she confessed her burden to him beginning nearly a year prior with Tim Speedle's death, bringing it home with that day's tragedy. Horatio listened and soothed and rocked her lovingly through the entire confession. He cried as well. Tim Speedle was like a son to him and he valued John Hagan as a dear friend. By the time she finished her soliloquy, Calleigh wan nearly inconsolable. Still, Horatio held and rocked her and did his best to soothe her. He had no idea that his Ballistics Expert felt so deeply or in such a profound manner. He gathered her spirit in just a little bit closer as a daughter of his heart.

He kissed the top of her head, soothing her, rocking her until her tears dried up and she finally calmed. She started to pull away in embarrassment. "Don't. We both lost a precious friend today. It's okay to grieve. I am. It's okay for you, too."

"I want out."

"Of CSI or just Ballistics?"

"I don't know."

Horatio thought about the memo that he read just that morning. "Sweetheart, take your time and think about it. We're going to be on a forced vacation while the lab gets a technological update. It's going to take weeks. I'll put in your sick leave and vacation days. That should give you plenty of time to work through this. Calleigh, you are the strongest woman I have ever met. If anyone can see themselves through this nightmare, it's you." His voice softened. "We all love you and understand that you have been through something hideous today. We won't abandon you, but you need to accept our help. Can you do that?"

There was a long silence. Yeah."

Horatio kissed her temple. "Good."

"I don't want to be...THERE."

"You'll be in Tox."

She smiled the first genuine smile since that morning. "Thank you."


End file.
